


Contamination

by Dorkjitsu



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 18:50:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6869167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorkjitsu/pseuds/Dorkjitsu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Orig. published 2008) Teenage guys are kind of gross. Seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Contamination

There was nothing quite like a Tuesday night wrestling match accompanied by the glorious combination of syrupy, fizzy soda and greasy, cheesy Doritos. The TV was Raph's for the next hour, and he had just recently snagged a cold cola from the fridge. More than half way there to his Perfect Evening, Raphael glanced around the empty kitchen then opened the lower cabinet that held cleaning supplies and extra rags. Right behind the blue bucket should be his coveted prize...  
  
Then again, maybe it was behind the bleach. Or beneath the dish towels. Or under...  
  
Raphael ceased his fruitless search with an annoyed growl. Someone had managed to discover his treasured, un-opened, family-size bag of Doritos. Someone had made off with it, possibly planning to eat the whole damn thing. Someone was about to become a dead Michelangelo.  
  
Raph stalked, eyes focused and movements fluid, toward the youngest turtle's room. Not even bothering to knock on the Spiderman movie poster, he turned the knob and let the door swing open as his unmoving bulk took up the entrance-way.  
  
"Whoa, dude. Very dramatic."

  
Emerald eyes scanned the cluttered mess before lighting upon the scarred end table. Raph's eyes narrowed, glued to the red and orange bag leaning, _opened_ , against the lamp. Mike followed the intense gaze, a flicker of recognition on his face before it was replaced with cheerful innocence. "Oh! I found some Doritos in the kitchen, tucked away in a really obscure place! April gets no points for kitchen organization."  
  
Raph's attempt at stoic intimidation fell away as he rolled his eyes, stepping into the room and reaching toward the bag. " _I_ put them there, 'cuz she brought them for _me_."  
  
Mike's wide-eyed expression was a little over the top, as was his surprised voice. "Ooooh! That makes so much more sense! You're the one who doesn't have any concept of pantry organization! Gotcha."  
  
Rather than sauntering out of the room, however, Raph had taken to impersonating a statue. His brows were knitted in thought as he stared at the colorful foil in his hand, his eyes darting around the general vicinity from time to time. Raphael closed his eyes, took a breath, then finally spoke in a low, indiscernible tone. "What is on my bag?"  
  
Mike blinked, seeing nothing but the bright graphics printed on the crinkling surface. "Uh..."  
  
Raph's eyes cracked open to fix his brother with a level look. "It's wet, sticky, and a little too thick for my comfort."  
  
The youngster's eyes widened suddenly and he retracted further away. Never a good sign. A hand came up to rub the back of his head nervously and he gave a forced chuckle. Raph must have seen that there was nothing wet, sticky, or thick in the room. The truth will set you free, right? Then again, some consider death to be a release. Mike hoped that Raph would not agree. "Oh. I guess I...uh...opened it before I washed my hands. You know how I get distracted sometimes..."  
  
He was startled into a knee-jerk reaction from his spot on the bed as the half-full bag of chips beamed him in the face. He could feel the energy rolling off of the other turtle before he even looked up to offer an apologetic smile.  
  
"That's disgusting! Geez, Mike...wash your fucking hands, will you? Before you do anything, touch anything, especially anything of mine! Mike, that's, just, YUCK!"  
  
Raph's beak was scrunched tightly in an expression of utter disgust and he held his hands away from his body, as if unsure as to what to do with them. He didn't dare risk wiping them off on anything in that room- it could just make it worse! The brush of fur against his ankle caused a malicious grin to grace his lips. He casually picked the cat up and pet Klunk forcefully, trying to get the excess moisture off. With his fingers buried in the orange tabby's fur, he turned and stomped toward the door, determined to scrub his hands thoroughly. Mike was able to call out to him before he made it to the door, however. "So...I can keep the chips?"  
  
Raph spun quickly, pointing a now-contaminated finger Mike's way. His voice came out as a guttural hiss between clenched teeth, "I'm not touching nothin' that's got your second-hand jizz on it! Grow some personal fucking hygiene, will ya?!"  
  
Mike's concerned features lifted to those of glee. It was a look that had absolutely no right being on his face given the circumstances. His all-too pleased voice made Raph's left eye twitch. "Cool! Then the remote controller's totally mine! Shell, the whole couch for that matter. And the DVDs, at least some of the dishes, the walkman, the bathroom sink, the kitchen sink, the fridge handle...oh, Raph? I wouldn't be petting Klunk either, if I were you."  
  
The cat dropped to the floor with a surprised mewl then skittered onto the bed, near the safety of his turtle. Raph's eyes were a little too wide and a little too twitchy as he left the room, making certain not to touch anything until he reached the bathroom.  
  
Despite the curious looks and bewildered glances, no one commented when Raph emerged twenty minutes later with rubber gloves and an arsenal of disinfectant.


End file.
